


A Supercut of Us

by Ava_BellaDonna



Category: Fleetwood Mac (Band)
Genre: 1970s, 1980s, 1990s, 2000s, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Female Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Reunions, Romantic Friendship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:14:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21884332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ava_BellaDonna/pseuds/Ava_BellaDonna
Summary: A collection of NickVie one-shots in the years between Solo lll (In Sausalito)'s ending and Moments Laced With Gardenia's epilogue. (Not in chronological order)
Relationships: Christine McVie/Stevie Nicks
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	1. Like The Deserts Miss The Rain

**Author's Note:**

> Set in 2002, Stevie reunites with Christine and tries to persuade her to re-join Fleetwood Mac. Title and story inspired the song Missing by Everything but the Girl.

Stevie slowly drove down the sprawling driveway, the pebbles crunching beneath the wheels of her rental BMW. She tried to ignore the deafening sound of her heartbeat as she put the car in park and switched off the ignition. Staring at the beautiful mansion looming in front of her, Stevie realised just how ill prepared she was for this reunion.

She remained frozen in her seat and took deep, steady breaths. _‘It will be okay’, ‘You’re just visiting an old friend’_ she recited over and over in her mind, trying to ignore the nagging impulse to hightail it out of there. She eventually found her resolve and picked up her carefully curated gift basket and bouquet of yellow roses before exiting the car.

Stevie knocked on the front door, tapping her foot anxiously as she waited for her ex band mate and friend to answer. She felt like she was going to faint on the spot. After what felt like centuries, the door opened and Stevie visibly exhaled at the sight of Christine’s expectant face.

“Hi, Stevie.” Christine greeted her pleasantly.

“Chris, its so good to see you.” Stevie awkwardly shifted the gift basket to her left hand and reached out to give Christine a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

Christine squeezed her back and Stevie tried to refrain from melting into her touch. The last time they embraced was four years ago when they emotionally bid each other goodbye at LAX airport.

“These are for you.” She handed Christine her gifts.

“Oh, cheers, you really shouldn’t have. Let’s go into the kitchen so I can put these in a vase.” Christine beckoned Stevie to follow her.

Stevie was amazed at the work Christine had put into her home. The high ceilings, cosy décor and comfortable furniture were very Christine. Stevie felt at ease straight away as they made their way to the spacious kitchen.

“Take a seat,” Christine gestured to one of the stools at the counter. “Would you like a cup of tea?”

“Yes please.” Stevie said eagerly as she watched Christine extract a vase, fill it up with water and carefully arrange the roses inside it.

They spoke lightly about Stevie’s trip to Kent while Christine went about making tea. Stevie took that time to drink in her old friend’s form; happy to see retirement hadn’t stopped Christine from retaining her effortless rock star look. Donned in a pair of figure hugging jeans and a loose white t-shirt, she looked every bit the stylish musician Stevie knew her as. It was surreal to be in the same room as her again.

“Here you go,” Christine handed her a steaming mug of tea. “Let’s sit in the sun room, shall we?”

She led the way to a bright living space wrapped in stained glass windows, the mid afternoon sun casting the room in a rainbow haze. She took a seat on a plush red sofa and Stevie sat beside her, cradling her mug of tea and feeling very unsure of how to proceed.

Christine propped her head on her elbow and gazed at Stevie fondly. “You look well, Stevie.”

“Thanks, Chris, so do you.” She cleared her throat and looked around the opulent room. “Your house looks so beautiful, I remember when you first bought it and talked about how much of a dump it was. Look at it now!”

Christine laughed. “Yeah, it’s been my project for years and I still enjoy it. I need to do up the barn at the back; I’m hoping to turn it into a guesthouse.”

Stevie took a sip of her hot drink and grinned. “After all these years you still remember how I like my tea.”

“Of course I do, Stevie. I used to make endless cups for you in the recording studio, remember?”

Stevie smiled nostalgically, thinking back to their heart to hearts shared over tea (and various other beverages) during Fleetwood Mac’s gruelling recording sessions.

“How are you, Stevie? Really.” Christine asked her softly.

Stevie set her mug down on the coffee table and fiddled with her opal ring. All the words she wanted to say were lodged in her throat.

“I’m doing okay.” She mumbled.

“Something’s wrong, otherwise you wouldn’t have flown all this way to see me.”

“I wanted to see you earlier.” Stevie blurted out. “ _Way_ earlier than now.”

Christine sighed and placed her half drunk tea next to Stevie’s.

“I wasn’t ready, darling, you know that.”

Stevie nodded, Christine’s reluctance to see her was obvious in the tone of their stilted phone calls over the years. It hurt to know Christine was in regular contact with John and Mick; but her relationship with them was easier than the complex one she had with Stevie. The last time they spoke was after she sent Christine a copy of _Trouble in Shangri-La_ with a note saying how proud she was of the album and how much she wanted her to listen to it. The conversation was brief yet positive, and Stevie held on to it every time she missed Christine; but it was never enough. Recently, Stevie found herself indulging in old embarrassing habits such as sitting in front of Christine’s old Beverly Hills house and writing streams of poetry she’d never dare show anyone.

“I know, I just…” Stevie took a deep breath. “I miss you so much, it’s hard not having you with us to record the new album.”

Christine scooted over and ran her hand down Stevie’s arm soothingly. “What’s going on, love?”

So Stevie told her. She spoke about feeling empty and listless when she set foot in the studio, her work sounding lifeless and uninspired. She recounted the endless arguments she had with Lindsey; describing the scathing ways he brought her down. And finally, how much Christine’s absence had cost all of them as they went through the motions to please their fans with a record Stevie knew wasn’t their best.

She didn’t speak about the personal toll Christine’s departure took on her. The last thing she wanted was to make her feel uncomfortable. The truth was, when Christine left, she took a part of Stevie with her. It was something she couldn’t really articulate.

“I can’t do this,” She said instead. “I can’t be in this band and record a new album without you, it feels wrong.”

“Stevie…”

“I want you to consider coming back.” Stevie couldn’t help but look at her pleadingly. “We need you, _I_ need you.”

Christine was silent for a long moment, her facial expression indiscernible.

“Let’s go outside.”

* * *

They sat on a bench overlooking Christine’s estate, the cool breeze drifting through the lush greenery surrounding them. It was a world’s away from Christine’s old life and Stevie could see why the older blonde didn’t miss the loud hustle and bustle of L.A.

“Stevie, I miss you and the boys dearly but I’m finally home and don’t want to leave.” Christine explained gently. “That last year touring was absolute hell and I can’t go back to that, I’m sorry.”

Her answer was what Stevie expected but she felt her heart drop all the same. She knotted her fingers together and tried to ignore the lump in her throat.

“I still can’t get on a plane and there are some days I can’t even leave my house,” Christine continued matter-of-factly. “There’s no way I can re-join the band and frankly, I don’t want to anyway. It’s over.”

“I’m sorry,” Stevie said sincerely. “You probably think I’m the most selfish person ever, coming here and begging you to do something you don’t want to do.”

Christine squeezed her hand. “Stevie, don’t worry about it. My life is just completely different now.”

“I know. I just miss you.” Stevie said, the tears starting to roll down her face on their own accord.

“I miss you, too. You don’t know how much.”

Letting go of any remaining social niceties, Stevie laid her head on Christine’s lap and cried. Christine stroked her hair and it was almost like the years apart had fallen away completely.

“God I’m a mess.” Stevie sniffed when she eventually sat back up.

“No you’re not.” Christine ran a thumb over her tear stained face.

Stevie closed her eyes, leaning in to Christine’s caresses.

“You’re more than welcome to visit me next time you’re in England.” Christine continued, pushing away the hair that clung onto Stevie’s damp cheek. “I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like I didn’t want to see you, I just needed time.”

“Its okay and I definitely will. Promise to come see us when we tour here?” Stevie asked hopefully.

Christine nodded eagerly and pulled her into a hug.

“You’re one of the most talented and strongest people I’ve ever met, gorgeous. I know you’ll be more than okay and it’ll all come together in the end.” She murmured into her hair.

Stevie’s heart leapt at the sound of Christine uttering the pet name she reserved for her, only. The endearment evoked memories she tried desperately to suppress over the past four years, but being so close to Christine again triggered an involuntary response and she held on to the older blonde tighter. 

Christine gently pulled back and gazed into Stevie’s eyes intently. Everything they wanted to say passed between them in one single look, a tribute to how they used to communicate when words failed them.

Stevie smiled at her tearfully; hopeful that one day, they will find their way back to each other for good. As Christine said, everything always came together in the end.


	2. Blaze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Explicit. Set during the Tusk tour in 1980, Christine and Stevie find themselves falling into old habits. Title taken from the song Blaze by No Mono, which also inspired the tone of the story.

Christine knew it was a bad idea to join Stevie in her suite; but rational decision-making was fast becoming a foreign concept as the _Tusk_ tour rolled on and on. Each show seemed to merge into one as Fleetwood Mac trudged around the globe to perform night after night in an intoxicated, detached daze.

“It’ll be fun, Chrissy.” Stevie had promised.

Christine knew she was going against her better judgment. A night in Stevie’s hotel room spelt trouble, but she couldn’t bring herself to say no. Truth be told, she missed hanging out with her friend. Christine couldn’t even remember the last time they had a proper conversation. So naively, she hoped for a booze free night where they could freely talk about their problems and offer each other words of comfort like the good old days.

An hour into Stevie’s proposition and it was clear a sisterly conversation was not on the agenda. The music was blasting and a noise complaint was imminent as Stevie danced around the room barefoot in a blissful trance with a bottle of brandy in hand.

“Stevie, shouldn’t you turn the music down?” Asked Christine as she sat in an armchair, lazily swaying her foot to the pulsating beat.

“Why?”

“I don’t want to draw attention to ourselves when this room is filled with drugs and booze.” Christine explained patiently, glancing at the two lines of coke waiting for them on the vanity table.

“Stop acting like a mom,” Stevie joked. “This is like a convent in comparison to what the boys’ rooms are like.”

Christine snorted and followed her friend’s movements with glazed eyes. The two bottles of Dom Perignon she consumed over the evening were beginning to take effect and all she could process was beautiful Stevie; an angelic vision Christine couldn’t tear her gaze away from. She swore Stevie was shooting her flirty glances, too.

All her supressed feelings of longing and need for the younger woman were slowly being brought to the surface and Christine knew she had to get out of there before she did something foolish and impulsive.

“Where are you going?” Stevie asked confusedly, her arms dropping to her sides as she watched Christine get up.

“Tired.” Christine mumbled just as Stevie sauntered over and pushed her back into the chair. 

“Not when I’m just getting started.” Stevie said huskily as she straddled her, taking a long swig of brandy before setting it on the coffee table beside them.

Christine gulped and tried to will her champagne addled mind into thinking of an escape route without hurting Stevie’s feelings. “What are you doing?”

“I’m giving you a friendly lap dance.” Stevie purred and began to gyrate her hips slowly in Christine’s lap.

Under normal circumstances, Christine would have affectionately nudged her off and made a joke to lighten the mood. But she couldn’t control the sigh that escaped her mouth as Stevie continued to wriggle around enticingly against her thighs. She looked up at her with hooded eyes and placed her hands on Stevie’s hips, digging her fingernails slightly.

Stevie moaned appreciatively and bent down to graze her lips against Christine’s.

“Let go, Chris. We’ve done this before.” She murmured before capturing Christine’s mouth in a heated kiss.

Christine drew Stevie closer to her and responded enthusiastically to her kiss. She tasted as good as she remembered; like brandy and something else unidentifiably sweet and utterly Stevie. She explored the taste with her tongue, massaging it against Stevie’s and threading her fingers through her wild mane of curls.

They kissed passionately for sometime, their bodies remembering each other and yearning for more. Christine trailed one hand up Stevie’s body to cup and squeeze her breast, causing Stevie to gasp into her mouth. She moved her lips down to plant open-mouthed kisses down her neck, inhaling her scent and tracing her tongue along Stevie’s defined collarbone. The alcohol became a non-factor as she gripped Stevie beneath her thighs and stood up to throw her down on the bed.

Stevie let out a breathless giggle and pulled Christine down to her, kissing her sensually while pulling at her dress zipper. Christine moved off Stevie briefly to take off her dress, the sparkly fabric dropped to the floor as she kicked off her boots.

Stevie sat up to remove her own dress and Christine helped her ease it down her body. Stevie bit her lip as Christine tried to decide where to kiss next; she settled for her cleavage, running her tongue along the supple curves before she unhooked her bra and tossed it on the floor behind her.

Christine took a nipple into her mouth and laved her tongue over it, her hand massaging and playing with the other breast. Stevie moaned and pushed her breast further into Christine’s mouth as she arched her back off the bed in pure enjoyment. Christine moaned against her skin, she had missed Stevie’s body quiver beneath her touch.

She gave Stevie’s right breast the same treatment before slowly moving down her soft body. She reached the edge of her soaked panties and dragged it down her legs with her teeth. Stevie kicked them off excitingly and spread her thighs wide for Christine to settle in between them.

Christine planted lingering kisses across Stevie’s thighs, deliberately avoiding her aching centre. She sucked at the sensitive skin of her inner thigh and Stevie bucked her hips involuntarily, drawing out Christine’s name under her breath.

“I need you, Chris, please, its been too long.” She whimpered.

At her words, Christine finally dragged her mouth to Stevie’s core. She kissed her clit and Stevie purred in response, tugging at her hair as she flicked her tongue over the bud before taking it in her mouth completely. Memories of their pleasure soaked hours together in Sausalito flooded through her mind as Stevie’s taste filled her mouth; the intensity of it all caused Christine to grind herself against the mattress to relieve some of her need.

She continued to lap at Stevie’s clit before moving down to suck rapidly at her folds. Stevie’s moans grew louder and more disjointed with every movement as she ground her centre against Christine’s mouth with unabashed pleasure. Christine replaced her tongue with her fingers, thrusting in and out of her while she sucked on her clit again. She gazed up at Stevie writhing around; one hand was pushed up against the headboard while the other tugged at her erect nipple. Christine sighed and moved her hips to get more friction as her own body began to tingle with pleasure.

“Come for me, gorgeous.” Christine whispered and lightly grazed Stevie’s clit with her teeth.

That was enough for Stevie to let go, thrashing her body wildly as she cried Christine’s name. Christine held her hips down as she helped her ride her orgasm, lapping at the sweetness that dripped out of Stevie’s pussy until she felt her body still.

Christine hovered over Stevie’s sweaty body and their lips met in a searing kiss. Stevie moaned into her mouth and dragged her hands down Christine’s back to undo her bra. She pulled off the lacy fabric and flung it on the floor before caressing Christine’s breasts, thumbing her already pebbled nipples. Christine moved up slightly so Stevie could take one in her mouth, the sensation of Stevie’s tongue working on her nipple was exquisite and Christine rubbed her soaked centre against Stevie’s thigh.

Stevie bit her other nipple playfully as she slid Christine’s panties off her legs. She lay back down and tried to shimmy Christine up her body.

“I want you to sit on my face.” She instructed and licked over her bottom lip in anticipation.

Christine’s breath hitched and she positioned herself so her centre rested on Stevie’s mouth. Stevie wrapped her hands around Christine’s thighs and gave her pussy a long lick before latching onto her clit.

Christine shuddered as she slowly began to ride Stevie’s face. She felt the pleasure creep up her body as Stevie licked and sucked her bud before she dipped her tongue into her core and lapped at the liquid that formed there. She continued to thrust her tongue in and out of Christine’s pussy while simultaneously rubbing her clit with her thumb. Christine moaned and ground her hips harder and faster, an orgasm fast approaching.

“Mmm, Stevie, I’m gonna come.” Christine panted.

Stevie reached up to squeeze Christine’s breast and swirled her tongue rapidly against her clit. Christine felt her walls tighten as she came, screaming Stevie’s name and riding every last wave of her orgasm. Stevie licked up the sweet liquid and gently rubbed Christine’s inner thigh as she came down, breathing unsteadily.

Shakily, Christine moved off a grinning Stevie and lay down beside her. Once Christine regained her breath, Stevie positioned her body so she lay on top of her in a soothing embrace. Christine ran her hands down Stevie’s spine and listened to her sigh contently.

“I missed doing that with you.” Stevie breathed.

“Me too.” Christine replied and kissed her softly.

* * *

Christine woke to the mid morning sun streaming through the windows and a snoring Stevie wound tightly around her naked form.

She turned around in Stevie’s arms so their noses were touching and gazed at her fondly, studying her long eyelashes and those pouty lips that were on various parts of her body last night. Christine flushed, remembering every erotic detail and feeling a dull ache between her thighs.

She slowly sat up and Stevie mumbled something in her sleep, turning over and hugging the pillow to her. Christine rubbed her forehead and looked back at Sleeping Beauty, mulling over her options. The easiest thing to do was to get up, walk out and pretend it never happened. But that wasn’t her style and she couldn’t bear to see Stevie’s hurt face later during the day.

She settled back down and pulled Stevie’s petite body close. She knew eventually, the pair would have to face their fears and stop explaining away their connection that went beyond friends with occasional benefits. But as she kissed Stevie’s shoulder and closed her eyes, Christine let herself pretend that the chaos and drama around them had fallen away and Stevie was hers for one blissful morning.


	3. Think About It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set during the Rumours tour in 1977, a broken Christine wants to leave Fleetwood Mac and Stevie is willing to do everything she can to get her to stay.

Stevie opened the curtains and blinked as her eyes adjusted to the late afternoon light bursting through the glass. She lifted the latch and pushed open the window, breathing in the chilly Birmingham air that held the promise of rain. The scent was rejuvenating and oddly sweet like cotton candy. It made Stevie smile, maybe if she followed the scent it might lead her to a candy store—or rather—a ‘sweet shop’ as they were known in England. She wondered whether Christine would come with her.

Her friend had been noticeably downcast and quiet over the past couple of days and Stevie knew why. Birmingham was a simmering cauldron of nostalgia for Christine, overflowing with memories now bitter to swallow. Stevie had memorised all the stories by heart so they practically felt like her own. Christine’s pain mirrored hers, twin flames born from the shared experience of love lost. But it was Stevie’s turn to be strong, and in a twisted way, she found comfort in the city Christine couldn’t wait to run away from.

She took a long hot shower then slid into a pair of jeans and a loose blouse. Satisfied with her simple look, Stevie picked up her purse and closed the door behind her, tiptoeing through the silent hallway until she reached Christine’s suite. She knocked on the door and waited, imagining Christine lithely getting up from the couch with a cup of coffee in hand. She heard the sound of feet shuffling across the carpet before the door cracked open and a pair of baby blues peered out at her.

“Hi, Stevie. You’re up and about early,” Christine observed.

Stevie grinned cheekily. “Unheard of, huh? I came to ask if you wanted to go out and get dinner.”

“Why are you whispering?”

“Don’t want to wake anyone,” Stevie explained, her eyes darting left and right. The stillness surrounding them indicated the boys and Fleetwood Mac entourage were still sleeping off the night before. “Can I come in?”

Christine gave her a small smile and opened the door wider. Stevie brushed her hand down the length of Christine’s arm as she entered, properly taking in the taller woman’s appearance. Her feathery hair was pulled up in a messy ponytail and there were faint shadows under her eyes. She looked like she had barely slept and Stevie felt bad for trying to entice her out.

“Would you rather stay in?” Stevie asked while she followed Christine in to her bedroom. “We can order room service.”

“No, love, I’m fine with going to the restaurant downstairs,” Christine replied. “I’ll just shower first. How about you pick out an outfit for me?” She added before disappearing into the bathroom.

Fleetwood Mac were staying in Birmingham for only two nights but Stevie noticed Christine had taken the trouble to unpack. She smiled to herself as she sifted through the wardrobe, it was just like Christine to try and make a home out of a hotel room while Stevie was content with living out of her suitcase. She didn’t see the point in settling in when they barely stayed in one place for more than two nights anyway.

Stevie eventually chose a denim jumpsuit she had never seen Christine wear before and set it on the bed just as she heard the tap turn off. The door slid open and Christine emerged wearing a towel around her body as she dried her hair with a smaller one. Stevie was momentarily captivated by a drop of water sliding down the hollow of Christine’s neck and disappearing between the cleft of her cleavage, she felt her mouth go dry at the sexy sight.

Christine hadn’t seemed to notice. “I’ll go and change in the bathroom,” she said as she grabbed the jumpsuit off the bed and rummaged around the chest of drawers for a bra and pantie set.

Moments later, Stevie sat next to Christine at the vanity table and watched as she applied her makeup. With every brush stroke and puff of powder Christine’s haunted look vanished and a luminous angel took its place. She twisted open a tube of lipstick and Stevie impulsively asked Christine whether she could put it on for her. 

“Sure.” Christine shrugged, handing it to her.

Stevie tilted Christine’s face towards her and held her chin steadily as she layered a glossy coat on her lips. She could see every crease in those heart shaped lips and Stevie felt goose bumps rise on her skin. They hadn’t been this close since Sausalito and she was painfully aware of Christine’s intense gaze on her, the memories of their past wrapping around them like gold wire.

Stevie’s cheeks flushed and she was sure Christine noticed this time around, there was no mistaking the amused smirk toying at the corners of her freshly made lips. She turned away from her and quickly slid the lipstick back in its sheath while Christine admired the completed look in the mirror.

“Mmm much better,” Christine murmured to herself as she spritzed some perfume on her neck. “I was in a complete manky state before, I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“I have no clue what ‘manky’ means but please don’t be sorry, we’ve all had our moments, ya know?” Stevie assured her. “Anyway, you’ve seen me look way worse.”

Christine affectionately squeezed her cheeks and Stevie found herself blushing again at the unexpected contact. “Don’t be daft, you’re a little cherub. A tough cherub with highly questionable innocence, but a cherub nonetheless.”

Stevie giggled, Christine’s way with words never failed to entertain her. “Whatever you say, Chris.” She stood up and handed Christine her purse. “Let’s go.”

* * *

Stevie and Christine indulged in a long dinner at the hotel’s restaurant while security stayed posted at the door. They spoke about last night’s gig and how endless the _Rumours_ tour was destined to be. They exchanged stage costume ideas and reminisced over how much things had changed. Just last year they were doing their own hair and makeup, and now, they had an entourage of make up artists and hair stylists who travelled with them. Their success still left Stevie starry-eyed and disbelieving, but the same couldn’t be said for Christine, who seemed burnt out and bone-weary.

“Tell me what’s going on, Chris,” Stevie finally asked her over dessert. “You’re not yourself. Is it because we’re in your hometown?”

Christine smiled wryly. “Birmingham isn’t my home town, technically.”

Stevie rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean. You’ve told me all the stories, I get why being here is not uplifting for you like everyone expects it to be.”

Christine was quiet for a long moment, her index finger slowly circling the rim of her wine glass. Stevie’s eyes followed her lazy movements, remembering that very same finger drawing circles on her sweat-dampened skin. She awkwardly fiddled with her necklace and quickly took a sip of her own wine, now _really_ wasn’t the time to stir those hidden longings.

Christine’s voice drew Stevie out of her reverie. “When we left the airport yesterday morning I felt fucking awful driving past John and I’s old haunts,” she explained. “All the memories hit me at once. I looked at him and I could see in his eyes that he felt just as shitty as I did.”

Stevie nodded, she could relate to that heavy feeling of nostalgia. She felt a pang every time she drove past Orange Grove and remembered her waitressing days with an angst-ridden Lindsey by her side. Like John and Christine, she and Lindsey would forever be haunted by the life they once shared together.

“Anyway.” Christine lit a cigarette and took a long drag. “I can’t wait to get the hell out of this place, but I also know our problems are going to follow us regardless of where we are. So there’s that.”

“Working and being on the road with your ex is the worst, I know,” Stevie said in a low voice while Christine rubbed her forehead tiredly. Feeling heartbroken for her friend she reached for her hand and squeezed it tightly. “Tell me what I can do for you to make this easier.”

Christine looked down at their intertwined fingers then gazed up at Stevie with her big sad eyes. “I’m not sure you can do anything. Johnny and I have our shit and you and Lindsey have your shit. We’re all just a big shitty mess, aren’t we?” she finished with a chuckle.

Steve gave her a bashful smirk. “Right? Well we said from the beginning we are a power duo and we still are. That will never change.”

“No, if anything it’s stronger now.” Christine grinned.

“Then we’re fine,” Stevie said, running her thumb over the faint lines etched in Christine’s skin. “We can survive anything.”

* * *

An hour later the women stood on Stevie’s hotel suite balcony looking out at the Birmingham night sky. The streetlights cast a mottled orange glow, but Stevie could see a few stars burst through the artificial light, striking and all-powerful.

Christine shuffled closer to her while Stevie placed a comforting hand on her lower back. She felt the heat emanating through Christine’s clothes—a transference of energy that caused her to feel vulnerable and daring.

“What are you thinking about?” Christine asked her quizzically, catching on to Stevie’s contemplative mood.

“I’m just thinking about when Lindsey and I performed in Birmingham, Alabama,” Stevie mused. “And now we’re in a different Birmingham and we’re not together anymore, we’re barely even speaking.”

Christine looked at her tenderly. “You and Linds are stormy for sure but I know it’s not the end for you two. I don’t think it’ll ever be the end.”

Stevie didn’t answer but she knew Christine was right. Despite the dysfunction and toxicity, there would always be a place in Stevie for Lindsey. It felt like he was first, before anyone else. But as she stole a sideways glance at the woman standing next to her, Stevie was certain she could never replace the piece of her heart that belonged to Christine, either.

“As for John and I, it feels like things will never get better. I knew divorce wasn’t a walk in the park but this is so bloody hard,” Christine revealed candidly while wiping away a stray tear from her eye. “I don’t know if I can stay in Fleetwood Mac when our interactions are so unpleasant.”

Stevie stared at her, completely anguished. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. There was simply no Fleetwood Mac without Christine McVie. She was the Earth Mother of the band and there was no one else like her.

“Please don’t tell me you’re thinking about leaving,” Stevie managed to choke out, words nearly failing her. “I can’t imagine being in this band without you. It’s not right.”

Christine gave Stevie a watery smile and gently trailed a finger down her cheek. “Don’t sell yourself short, love. You’re a strong girl and no matter what happens to me, you’ll be okay.”

“So will you, Chris,” Stevie told her fiercely. “You’ll be better than okay, and I hope you really think about it before you do anything stupid.”

Christine nodded hesitantly and brought Stevie’s head down so it was resting on her shoulder. Stevie exhaled shakily and stared up at the hazy foreign sky, watching the small smattering of stars disappear behind a grey cloud and out of sight.

* * *

Stevie invited Christine to stay the night and sat next to her sleeping form with her journal propped open on her knees. She listened to Christine wheezing and whistling in her sleep, something she did when she had been on a drinking and smoking binge. Absent-mindedly, she drew stars on the top right corner of the page and thought about the ones she and Christine had gazed at earlier. They looked close enough to touch and Stevie imagined catching one if it fell. Almost like catching Christine and holding her together when she was in danger of falling apart.

Inspiration stirred within her and she quickly poured out the words before she forgot them.

_“I am just one small part of forever…Falling star star catcher.”_

Stevie thought about the passionate advice she gave to Christine on the balcony and wrote _Think About It_ on the top of the page. Before the rest of the words came together she heard Christine stir and murmur her name in her sleep.

“Stevie…”

Stevie quietly set her journal on the bedside table and wriggled down under the covers so she and Christine were nose to nose. Time stood still while she felt Christine’s warm breath hit her lips in small puffs. It had been nearly a year since they were intimate and Stevie was overwhelmed with the desire to kiss the elegant hollow of Christine’s neck and hear her moan throatily in return.

She was about to do just that when Christine opened her eyes and gazed sleepily at her. She was close- _so close_ -and Stevie felt like she was swimming in the blueness of her eyes. Hypnotised and devoid of all rational thought, Stevie closed the small gap between them and kissed Christine softly on the lips.

Christine gasped and snaked an arm around Stevie’s waist, pulling her closer as Stevie’s heart began to beat wildly in her chest. She gently traced Christine’s bottom lip with her tongue and breathed a sigh of relief when the older woman’s mouth opened for her. Stevie wanted to crawl inside as she tasted the lingering notes of barley wine and cigarettes on Christine’s tongue. It taste like home. It tasted like where she belonged.

She craved Christine’s other signature taste more than anything and was about to drag her lips down that willowy neck when her companion gently pulled back.

“Mmm, what’s wrong?” Stevie mumbled, reclaiming Christine’s now swollen lips again.

Christine gave in to the sensual kiss for a few long moments before reluctantly letting go, cradling Stevie’s flushed cheek in her palm. “We can’t do this. We’re not in Sausalito anymore.”

“Why?” Stevie asked, unable to stop the hurt from creeping into her voice. She was never one to handle rejection well. “What’s the difference between now and Sausalito?”

“I’m not in the headspace for it. I’ll be doing it to escape my problems and that’s not fair to you,” Christine explained apologetically. “The last thing I want to do is use you to make me feel better. I just need a friend right now.”

Stevie was quiet as she stared into Christine’s imploring eyes. She was prepared to do anything Christine wanted her to do if it meant she would stay. Their friendship always came first, above everything else. It was what they told each other when they lay in a tangle of limbs after making love for the last time in Sausalito. Maybe one day they could properly make a go of it, but not now. Not when things were too complicated.

“I’m sorry,” Christine said, gathering Stevie into her arms and kissing the top of her head.

“It’s okay,” Stevie responded against her chest. “I just want you to be happy. I’ll do anything to make you happy.”

* * *

Three days later Fleetwood Mac were flying back to England from their show in Scotland and the atmosphere was sleepy and relaxed. Stevie held her journal to her chest as she plonked down next to Christine, who was curled up against the window with a crossword puzzle book open in her lap, her face screwed up in concentration as she stared intently at the nearly completed page in front of her.

“Quick, who is the Greek goddess of witchcraft?” Christine asked Stevie bossily, her eyes not leaving the page.

“Hecate.”

Christine gave her a lopsided grin before scrawling down the answer. “Of course you knew that one.”

Stevie smiled shyly and opened her journal, sliding it on top of Christine’s crossword book. “I want you to read something.”

She waited with baited breath as Christine read her song, watching her thoughtful eyes absorb each word.

“It’s beautiful,” Christine said finally. “What’s the story?”

“It’s about you. I don’t know where this is going to go but I want people to know I wrote it for my friend, Chris, when she was sad.” Stevie looked up at Christine from under her long eyelashes. “It’s to give you some strength. Y’know, to try and hold you up a little bit while we’re touring.”

“Wow, Stevie,” Christine replied, tears filling her eyes. “I don’t know what to say except I’m touched you wrote a song about me. Thankyou.”

“Just promise me you’ll stay.” Stevie said softly, snuggling against her side. “I’m the strong one now but who knows how long that will last. I need you.”

Christine chuckled and ran a hand down Stevie’s back; the gesture was reassuring and comforting and told her all she needed to know. “I’m not going anywhere.”


	4. Painted in Her Grief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christine helplessly watches on as Stevie makes a huge mistake. (Title inspired by the song Landscape by Florence + The Machine) 
> 
> A huge thanks to Katy (mastiff) for being my beta.

Stevie had always been a paradox in Christine’s eyes. A whimsical dreamer who managed to keep her feet on the ground, she was blunt and tough but sensitive and high strung. She twirled around the stage like a confident ballerina donned in chiffon and sequins but also suffered from overwhelming stage fright. In other words, Stevie had always been unconventional, a little crazy and sometimes unpredictable. But Christine generally could read her like an open book.

Until now.

They had barely spoken since the _Mirage_ tour ended. Robin’s passing had driven a huge unexplainable wedge between them and Christine had spent the remainder of the tour feeling anxious and guilty. She couldn’t look at her grieving friend without feeling like she should say more, should do more. But Stevie’s pain was immense and all consuming, like a dark vortex no one could ever understand. So Christine had let herself get pushed away, concluding that Stevie would come to her when or if she wanted to.

It felt like a fever dream when Stevie called her out of the blue on a mid-January afternoon after months of no contact. Her voice was suspiciously chipper and light like no time had passed at all.

“Kim and I are getting married!” she announced excitedly. “I really want you to come, Chris. It’s-“

“I’m sorry,” Christine interrupted. “You’re getting married to _who_?"

“Robin’s husband,” Stevie stated patiently. “On the twenty-ninth. I know it’s short notice but it would be great if you came and I would really appreciate your support, you know?”

Christine stared blankly at the wall and tried to process her friend’s news. ‘Marriage’ and ‘Stevie Nicks’ were words that weren’t compatible with each other; she had never wanted it and Christine couldn’t fathom the sudden change of heart. Alarm bells rang in her mind. This was very, _very_ wrong.

“What’s the meaning of this, Stevie?” Christine asked her quietly. “Talk me through why you think this is a good idea.”

“Matthew needs someone to take care of him and he should be given the opportunity to grow up with two parents.” There was a note in Stevie' voice that struck off-chord and Christine was suddenly struck with a vision of Stevie standing at the edge of a cliff, a mere second away from flinging herself off into the depths of madness. “It’s what Robin wants,” she added.

“What Robin wants,” Christine repeated slowly, wondering why Stevie was speaking about her late best friend in present tense. “You’re Matthew’s godmother. Why can’t you support him in that sense and be like a mother figure to him? You can’t marry Kim. It’s impulsive and nonsensical and both of you are going to regret it.”

“It’s okay, Chris, I don’t expect you to understand,” Stevie replied in a patronising tone. “Look, I have a lot of phone calls to make so are you coming or not?”

“No, Stevie, I’m not. I’m sorry.”

“That’s fine,” Stevie said crisply and Christine had the feeling she wasn’t the first to decline the invitation. “I’ll see you around.”

As the phone went to an idle tone an uneasy feeling settled inside her and Christine tried to convince herself she’d made the right decision. She knew only a few people who could put her anxieties at ease and made a quick decision to call one of them.

* * *

“Did Stevie call you?” she asked as soon as Mick picked up the phone.

“Well, hello to you too, Christine,” Mick answered jovially. “And yes, she did. Our girl is apparently getting married.”

“This cannot be real. _Surely_ she will come to her senses.” Christine said.

“I don’t think so. You know Stevie, as soon she makes her mind up about something there’s no talking her out of it.”

“Please tell me you’re not encouraging this madness and said no to the invite.” Christine crossed her fingers in hope as the all too familiar guilt rose inside her by the second.

Mick was uncharacteristically quiet for a moment. “I did initially. But then I thought about it and realised that, yes, while this is a monumental mistake, I want to be there for her. She was thrilled I had changed my mind. I suggest you do the same, Christine.”

“Mick! Don’t you see what’s going on?” Christine exclaimed. “She needs us there to confirm what she’s doing is okay when we both know it isn’t.”

“It’s not as black and white as you think it is,” Mick said firmly. “You saw the state she was in when we toured. Don’t you think it’s worth humouring her a little if it means we won’t lose her, too? Who knows, maybe being a mother might give her the incentive to get her life straight.”

“You really don’t think she would hurt herself, do you?” Christine asked worriedly. “What are you thinking? She’ll deliberately overdose on coke?”

“I’m not going to sugar coat it, love. It’s a distinct possibility at the rate she’s going.”

Christine couldn’t bear to think about it. Instead, she put herself in Stevie’s shoes and tried to see the situation through a different set of eyes.

“Okay, I’ll voice what I think led to her decision so it will be easier for me to attend this train wreck.”

“Righto,” Mick chuckled.

“Robin was the first person Stevie had spoken to us about and it was clear they were an irreplaceable part of each other. You agree?”

“Mhmm.”

“She feels Robin left Matthew for her to take care of. Marrying Kim looks like the only logical course of action and it gives her a purpose to cling on to.”

“I would say so, yes.”

Christine ran a hand through her hair and assessed her options. Stevie’s wedding was a guaranteed circus and she was sure to suffer from second-hand embarrassment. On the other hand, she didn’t want Stevie to feel alone and unsupported in the desperate situation she was in.

“Fine. Fine. I’ll go,” she eventually said to Mick. “Can we go together? I feel like I would turn the car around as soon as I arrive, otherwise.”

Mick laughingly agreed and they said their goodbyes. Christine immediately dialled Stevie’s number, twirling the cord around her finger as she waited for the bride-to-be to answer.

“Hello?”

“Stevie, it’s Chris. I’ve changed my mind.” she sighed resignedly. “I’ll come to your wedding. I still think this is a huge fuck up but I’ll stand by you, regardless.”

“Thanks, Christine,” Stevie replied gratefully. “You don’t know how much your presence will mean to me.”

“You know you owe me about three bottles of Dom Perignon for this?” Christine mumbled.

Stevie laughed. “Don’t worry, there will be plenty of booze to go around.”

“Good, we’re all going to need it.”

* * *

Christine inspected the pale pink matchbox she held in her hands and traced over the words “Kim & Stephanie 29 January 1983” embossed on the front. Her slender finger lingered on Stevie’s name before she threw the complimentary gift onto the table with a sigh. She took a long sip of champagne, hoping it would fill the hollow pit in her stomach that grew larger as the night went on.

Stevie and Kim’s wedding reception was loud, merry and slightly camp. Almost like they were trying to compensate for something. _“Humour her,”_ Mick had muttered from the corner of his mouth when Stevie had approached them after the ceremony. Her smile was big and her eyes were shiny as she thanked them for coming and being a part of _“A new chapter in her life”_ as she had called it. Kim stood awkwardly beside his new wife, his eyes briefly meeting with Christine’s before sliding away. Clearly, whatever look she had given him indicated she was doing a terrible job at humouring them.

Christine watched Stevie laugh and mingle with her guests, a permanent giddy grin plastered on her delicate face. Sharon and Lori fawned over her constantly, the three of them looking like a witches’ coven in their matching flower crowns and long, lace adorned dresses. Their getups looked like stage costumes. A performance. It made Christine feel very uncomfortable.

“I wish John was here,” Christine expressed to Mick wistfully. “His commentary would have been something else.”

“Yeah it’s a shame he decided to take a last minute sailing trip,” Mick responded dryly. “Not a coincidence at all, eh?”

Christine snorted at the same time Stevie looked in her direction from across the room. They locked eyes and Christine tried to give her a reassuring smile that she knew fell flat.

“I’m going to get some fresh air.” she took her purse and clapped her wedding date on the shoulder before swiftly leaving the room.

Outside, Christine leaned against the fence and closed her eyes. The cool Californian air hit her face and she exhaled slowly, hoping the breeze would take all her uneasiness away. In need of some chemical assistance she lit a cigarette and took a long drag, feeling slightly better as the nicotine took affect immediately.

A voice came from behind her, “Mind if I bum a cigarette?”

Christine turned and stared at Stevie as she approached her cautiously. “Since when did you start smoking?”

Stevie shrugged and wriggled her fingers expectantly. “It’s a ‘here and there’ kinda thing.”

Christine handed Stevie a cigarette and leaned in close to light it for her, the flame casting an eerie glow across the jewels embedded in Stevie’s headpiece. Stevie muttered her thanks and pulled back, her drags coming out in small, noncommittal puffs.

“I’m sorry I didn’t buy you a wedding gift,” Christine blurted out.

Stevie looked amused. “Seriously, Chris? Do you really think I would care about you not giving me a crock pot?”

Christine playfully nudged her. “Do you _really_ think I would buy you something I know you wouldn’t use?”

“Well, you being here is a gift in itself.” Stevie smiled at her.

Christine nodded uncomfortably. “I don’t like going back on my word…even if I don’t fully understand what’s going on.”

Stevie didn’t answer straight away and Christine noticed a small frown forming on her face as if she was battling internally with something.

“Chris, I’ll tell you something I haven’t told anyone else, not even my mom,” she began with trepidation.

“Okay,” Christine replied uncertainly.

“The day I convinced Kim to marry me I walked into Matthew’s nursery and found his cradle rocking without anyone being there. Just rocking gently while Matthew was sleeping. And then, like, suddenly, it made sense. That was his momma’s way of telling me she supported my decision.” Stevie looked up at Christine with her eyes full of resolute determination.

Christine could only stare at her. She believed in spirits and premonitions—her mother had been a psychic, after all—but this was something else entirely. Stevie now lived in a bizarre fantasy world born out of grief and loss. The hollowness Christine had felt all night was replaced by a heavy sadness. Sadness for Stevie, their changed friendship and the unrecognisable girl whom she had become.

“I know you think I’m crazy and I’m sure most people back there would think so, too.” Stevie nodded back at the party she’d abandoned.

“Oh, Stevie, you know I believe in all that stuff. My mum predicted I would meet you, remember?” Christine said. “But you sound very vulnerable right now. I know you have a baby to look after but I really want you to take care of yourself, too.”

“I’m not vulnerable. Matthew feels just as much a part of me like he was to Robin. Sometimes the right paths in life don’t make the most sense, but this is what I’m meant to do.” Stevie smiled wanly and Christine knew she was losing her.

“Well, I’m always here for you if you need anything. Babysitting or whatever,” Christine offered lamely as she was unable to think of anything else tactful to say. “Or if you just need someone to talk to.”

“Thanks, Chris, I’ll keep that in mind,” Stevie squeezed her arm and stubbed out her cigarette. “I better go back in there.”

“I’ll see you later,” Christine replied. “Good luck with everything, Stevie.”

* * *

Christine somehow managed to drag herself through the rest of the reception to watch the newlyweds leave for their honeymoon in Santa Barbara. She stood at the edge of the crowd with Mick by her side and looked on as Kim opened the passenger door for Stevie, giving her a peck on the cheek as he did so. Christine could hear Stevie’s signature giggle over the cheers and well wishes and it made her smile nostalgically.

Stevie scanned her gaze over her guests and Christine’s heart stopped for a second when Stevie’s eyes finally settled on hers—the person she was looking for. Stevie gave her a small wave and Christine nodded encouragingly in return. She prayed Stevie wouldn’t forget their talk, wouldn’t forget about her. Stevie finally slid into the car with confetti in her hair and Christine watched her go, hoping Stevie would face her new life with the down-to-earth grit and strength Christine had always loved about her. 


	5. Wild Gemini

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plotless smut set just before the Behind the Mask tour in 1990. I have the BIGGEST crush on Christine during this time, what a babe!
> 
> I listened to Gemini by Tash Sultana on repeat while writing this fic. 
> 
> Thanks always to my dear friend, Katy (mastiffgirl) for being my beta and believing in me. Xx

Stevie exhaled blissfully at the feel of Christine’s slender finger tracing her bottom lip. Her touch was feather-light, akin to a fragile dream experienced at the cusp of unconsciousness. But Stevie was wide-awake—wide-awake to appreciate the exquisite weight of Christine’s body atop her. Stevie shakily swept her hands up Christine’s smooth thighs to make sure she was not dreaming, and when she heard Christine hum sensuously in response, it was all the proof Stevie needed to know that this was, indeed, real.

Christine bent down to kiss her and Stevie eagerly opened her mouth to welcome Christine’s velvety tongue. They kissed slowly, Christine’s tongue naturally dominating as she pulled Stevie’s thigh over her hip. Stevie inhaled sharply as her core opened for her, their kiss intensifying when Christine dug her fingers into her skin. She ran her hand up Stevie’s side and Stevie broke the kiss, watching anxiously for any signs of repulsion as Christine’s palm moved over her soft rolls. There were none. Instead, Christine’s eyes were full of pure wonder as she explored Stevie’s changed body, and Stevie sighed in relief.

Christine captured her lips again and Stevie squirmed as Christine’s hand made contact with her breast, briefly smoothing over her erect nipple before dancing along her collarbone. Stevie couldn’t help but whine her impatience, craving Christine’s immensely talented mouth on her breasts. She remembered all the times Christine had made her come that way and shuddered in needy anticipation.

Christine smirked. “You’ve waited two years for this so what’s another minute or two?”

She was taunting her. Frustrated and far too horny to play games, Stevie scratched her nails down Christine’s shoulder and grinned when her smug lover hissed at the slight sting. Christine swiftly took Stevie’s arms and pinned them over her head, moving down to leave open mouthed, hungry kisses against Stevie’s neck. Stevie moaned softly while Christine rediscovered her sensitive spots, dipping her tongue into the hollow of her neck before dragging her mouth downwards.

Stevie gasped at the tingling sensation of Christine swirling her tongue around her nipple. She looked up at her lustfully before taking the tip into her mouth, sucking on it softly while Stevie arched her back in unabashed pleasure. Christine moved her hand to Stevie’s other breast, rolling the nipple skilfully while Stevie’s hips bucked up against Christine’s lower body. Despite Stevie’s insistent movements, Christine continued to move at a leisurely pace. She bestowed equal attention upon both breasts, scraping her teeth against the sensitive skin and laving her tongue over and over the peak.

“ _Christine,_ ” Stevie begged, her voice raw with want. “Just fuck me already…”

Christine finally acquiesced and released Stevie’s breast with a soft pop. Stevie winced when Christine kissed down her pillowy stomach; her insecurities resurfaced as she once again remembered how undesirable she felt. Her body tensed and Christine sensed Stevie’s apprehension immediately. She stopped her gentle kisses and gazed up at her with a concerned frown.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“I don’t-“ Stevie began in a trembling voice. “I don’t feel good about my body, Chris.”

Christine’s face softened and she inched back up Stevie’s body to look deeply into her despondent eyes.

“Stevie, you are still so fucking beautiful and desirable,” she murmured reverently. “You make me so wet just by being naked in my bed.”

Stevie’s breath hitched and she watched wide-eyed as Christine’s hand disappeared between her legs to touch herself. Christine’s eyes fluttered closed as she spread the juices over her mound before bringing her fingers to Stevie’s parted lips.

“Taste how much I want you.”

Stevie slowly ran the tip of her tongue down Christine’s index finger, re-familiarising herself with that taste she had craved so much over the past two years. A combination of salt and something pleasantly tangy, Christine’s rose water was intoxicating. She took Christine’s finger in her mouth and sucked it hungrily before doing the same with the middle, listening to Christine’s erotic mewls while she did so.

Feeling reassured, Stevie slowly guided Christine’s hand to her stomach and gave her a slight nod. Christine smiled and kissed her lips before sliding back down. Stevie’s skin glowed under Christine’s warm mouth as she explored the protruding globe of her stomach. She drew constellations with her teeth over Stevie’s freckles and dipped her tongue into the milky way of her navel. In Christine’s eyes, Stevie’s body was a wondrous galaxy, and she would make it her personal mission to make Stevie feel beautiful again. Even if it was only for one night.

Christine’s lips connected with Stevie’s thigh and she paused to breathe in her sweet scent. Overwhelmed with nostalgia, Christine rested her cheek against the soft skin of her inner thigh and looked up at Stevie fondly. She watched a big smile spread across her beautiful face and sighed as Stevie tangled her hands in her hair, urging her on. Christine placed her hands under Stevie’s ass and opened her legs further, groaning at the sight of her juices glistening in the lamplight. Stevie’s whimpers filled the air as she began sucking on her inner thigh, drifting ever closer to where Stevie needed her most.

Stevie panted heavily as Christine’s lips finally made their way to her entrance. She hungrily licked through her arousal, tasting the butterscotch-like liquid that stickily coated her folds. It was utterly addictive and Christine wanted to lick at her forever as she slowly tasted a wet path up to her clit. She teasingly flicked her tongue against Stevie’s swollen pearl and felt Stevie clench beneath her.

“Honey, breathe, I’ve got you,” Christine assured before cheekily flicking her clit again.

“ _Fuck, Chris_ …” Stevie whined while tugging at Christine’s hair almost painfully.

She circled the bud languidly then took it in her mouth, sucking on it lightly while Stevie ground her hips rhythmically against Christine’s face. Christine’s careful ministrations were sweet torture and Stevie threw her head back and squeezed her breasts to further her aching desire. Christine suckled on her harder while massaging Stevie’s slick entrance with two fingers, causing Stevie to thrust her hips violently. Gently, Christine pushed a finger inside to test how much Stevie could take. She felt tighter than Christine remembered but still satisfyingly warm and so _so_ wet. She stared up at Stevie through half-lidded eyes and inserted another, building a steady rhythm that matched her tongue until Stevie’s moans were nothing but harsh, ragged breaths. Christine scraped her teeth against her quivering clit and Stevie cried out in relief as she finally gave in to her intense orgasm. Each electric tremor coursed through her writhing body while her legs shook and her walls tightened around Christine’s relentless fingers. It was magnificent. Stevie could feel her climax from the tips of her breasts down to her curled toes. Christine moaned along with her as she moved her lips southwards to drink eagerly from Stevie’s core. Her own centre pulsed at the sight of Stevie’s flushed chest rapidly rising and falling as she enjoyed the aftershocks of her orgasm. She placed one last lingering kiss on Stevie’s throbbing pussy and tenderly rubbed her inner thigh while Stevie regained her breath.

Stevie reached for Christine cautiously; she was scared now that the job was done, her ex-girlfriend would quickly move away. But she didn’t. Instead Christine travelled back up Stevie’s body, leaving a trail of lazy kisses until she was face to face with her. The sight of Christine’s orgasm-tinted lips and pink cheeks brought a proud smile to her face, and she slowly licked herself off her while Christine chuckled richly in response.

“You always fuck me so good,” Stevie told her in between heated kisses. “Now it’s your turn.”

Christine moaned in excitement as Stevie rolled her over, her hands quickly moving to Christine’s breasts to pinch her tightened nipples.

“Ride me, Stevie,” Christine ordered as her hands wandered to Stevie’s hips.

“Mmm, let me touch you first.” Stevie leaned down to close her mouth over Christine’s nipple.

“Fine,” Christine breathed, pushing her breast further into Stevie’s mouth. “Then I want you to ride me.”

Stevie smiled against her breast then made the slow descent down Christine’s body. She took her time, revelling in caressing someone whose body was so different to her own. Stevie kissed the spaces between Christine’s ribs, and when Christine arched her back, trailed her knuckles down the ridges of her spine. She pressed soft kisses over the taunt skin stretched across Christine’s stomach and smoothed her hand along the crease of her firm ass. Stevie delighted in the sound of Christine’s raspy little moans as she nibbled on her hipbone and flicked her tongue over the indent her teeth had made. She had wanted Christine for so long, even watching her shimmy behind her keyboards during rehearsals were a gift in itself: a gift almost as alluring as the one aching between Christine’s thighs.

“Stevie, _please,_ I need you,” Christine moaned.

Stevie grazed her teeth along Christine’s trembling inner thigh before pressing her lips against her core. She placed a firm kiss against her entrance, her lips moistening from the liquid pooling out. Slowly, Stevie spread open Christine’s lower lips and rolled her tongue inside her, humming appreciatively when Christine fisted her hands in her hair. Stevie pulled Christine’s legs over her shoulders so she could probe deeper, sighing as her taste coated her tongue. Stevie missed that taste. She missed _her_.

She swept her tongue along the length of Christine’s walls, wishing she could reach her g-spot and lap at the spongy skin. Reluctantly, Stevie pulled out and replaced her tongue with two fingers, watching as Christine tilted her hips to push Stevie further into herself. Stevie began moving while she brushed her lips against Christine’s clit, licking at it teasingly before enveloping it in her mouth. She stared at Christine palming her breasts and worked her fingers faster, watching Christine play with herself turned Stevie on to no end.

“Stevie, your mouth on my tits, now.” Christine breathed while she tugged on her nipples.

Stevie gave Christine’s clit one final swipe with her tongue before trailing up her damp body to suckle at her breast. Christine convulsed, her honey dripping down Stevie’s hand as Stevie swirled her tongue around the peak and sucked on it firmly. Stevie’s forearm began to tire, but Christine’s needy moans drove her on as she moved her fingers harder against her g-spot. As Stevie focused her attention upon the other breast, she began thumbing Christine’s clit in time to her erratic thrusts and Christine finally rocked over the edge. Stevie purred against Christine’s nipple as she felt the taller woman’s core tighten around her while she threw her head back and cried out erotically. Stevie continued to move her fingers gently inside her until she felt Christine still completely. After a moment, she felt Christine pull at her hair almost painfully and Stevie realised she was not finished yet.

Smiling indulgently, Stevie rose and spread Christine’s thighs to settle in between them. As if she was in a trance, Christine slowly swept her hands up Stevie’s sides, cupping and caressing her breasts before bringing them down to rest on her hips.

“Go ahead, gorgeous.”

At the uttering of her old pet name Stevie began to move, setting a sweet, delicious rhythm. The feeling of their clits gliding wetly against each other was incredible and Stevie wanted to heighten her pleasure as much as possible. She brought her hands down her neck to her breasts, playing and pulling at her nipples while Christine gripped her hips harder. Their eyes were locked in a lustful stare—a stare reminiscent of the ones they had shared during happier times.

“Oh, baby, I’m going to come,” Christine panted while she writhed beneath her.

Stevie swept her tongue over her bottom lip as she moved her hips faster. “Come with me.”

Christine moved her hands downwards to squeeze Stevie’s ass and Stevie felt herself tense before being thrown off the edge into another breath-taking orgasm. Christine followed her seconds after, their cores pulsing together as Stevie felt her release seeping into Christine’s entrance. She ground her hips harder to draw out their climaxes as long as possible while sweat dripped down her body. She noticed Christine stare at a droplet fall between her breasts and she bent down for her lover to lick at it. Christine moaned as the salt hit her tongue and she brought a still shaking Stevie to nestle against her chest as their orgasms ebbed away.

Satiated, Christine breathed in the rosy smell of their mixed fluids and listened to Stevie’s heart-rate return to a normal pace. Once Stevie had calmed down, she reached up to claim Christine’s mouth in a passionate kiss while Christine ran her hands up and down her back. They made out for some time until their kisses wound down to lazy pecks and brushes of lips, both of them reluctant to let go.

Surprisingly it was Stevie who pulled away first. She lay next to Christine and surreptitiously swept her eyes over her post-coital form. Taking in everything from her moussed hair and “come hither” gaze, to her trim waist and plum coloured toenails. Christine was beautiful. She could get any man or woman she wanted without question.

Yet, tonight, she was with Stevie.

“I still can’t believe you let me come over,” Stevie voiced her thoughts out loud. “Why did you say yes?”

“Probably for the same reasons you called me,” Christine responded dryly. “When you’re stressed and nervous before touring you always reach out to someone for sex. I remember it was one of the many healthy rituals you performed with Lindsey.”

Stevie couldn’t help but smile sheepishly. “Don’t worry, this was a one time thing…from my side anyway.” She paused before continuing cautiously, “Why are you stressed about the tour?”

“You know touring isn’t something I’ve ever really enjoyed but now I’m simply sick of it. Just thinking about being on stage under those bright lights makes me anxious. And don’t even get me started on the travelling.” Christine sighed tiredly and Stevie’s heart went out to her.

“I know what you mean. I’m anxious, too, but for different reasons,” Stevie said quietly. “Starting with my weight.”

Christine glanced at her kindly. “You’ll still be a foxy hit with our fans, darling, no matter what you look like.”

Stevie blushed. “Thanks. Anyway, there’s nothing a bustier and a shawl can’t hide, right?”

“Exactly,” Christine agreed. She swung her legs over the bed and headed for the ensuite while Stevie shamelessly stared at her retreating ass. “You’re welcome to stay the night, by the way,” she added.

Stevie mulled over the offer. It was tempting. She couldn’t think of anything better than sleeping in Christine’s bed, knowing their bodies would naturally intertwine like they used to. But the morning would bring nothing but stilted conversations and awkward glances born under a cloud of regret. Stevie knew Christine would kick herself for caving into a desire that she could only justify in the afterglow of great sex.

Stevie gave her ex girlfriend a rueful smile when she returned to the big bed and promptly pulled the covers over herself. In the warm light emanating from the bedside lamp, Stevie could see the marks she had left in Christine’s shoulder: red and angry like the last days of their relationship.

“I’m sorry I scratched you,” she mumbled.

“It’s okay,” Christine yawned. “It happens in the heat of the moment, sometimes.”

The scratches weren’t the only things Stevie wanted to apologise for. The list was endless. But Stevie didn’t have the energy for it, and judging from the even breaths coming from Christine, neither would she. Instead, Stevie gently touched the fresh wounds, desperately wanting to reach inside to soothe the ones scarred in Christine’s heart…the ones Stevie had caused.

Stevie took a moment to gather herself and reluctantly left the warm bed. She quietly got dressed without looking at the beautiful, sleeping woman she was leaving behind. One glance at Christine’s serene expression would be all it took to crawl into bed with her again. Stevie picked up her purse and took one of Christine’s cigarettes from the bedside table—for sentimental reasons—and walked out of the room, leaving the door slightly open behind her.


End file.
